Denial
by Camberleigh Fauconbridge
Summary: Modern AU, pre-Les Amis. In which Combeferre gives advice. Not slash. Eventual É/E. Oneshot.


**Title**: _Denial_

**Author**: Camberleigh Fauconbridge

**Rating**: PG - 13 / T

**Pairings**: Enjolras/OOC, Enjonine [Éponine/Enjolras]

**Summary**: Modern AU, pre-Les Amis. In which Combeferre gives advice. Not slash. Eventual É/E. Oneshot.

**Disclaimer**: _Les Misérables_ and its musical counterpart are the property of Victor Hugo, Cameron Mackintosh, Claude-Michel Schönberg, Alain Boublil, Herbert Kretzmer, Trevor Nunn, John Caird, all of the casts and all of the creative teams that have produced any production of _Les Misérables_. The premise for this idea is the property of askenjonine. No money is being made off this story, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Note**: This was inspired by Tumblr user **askenjonine**, and used with full permission.

There are three links that mention Danielle Therriault, Enjolras' first and only girlfriend other than Éponine (since this is an É/E fic, deal with it). FYI, Danielle is inspired by the lovely Kerry Butler's involvement in the musical adaption of _Catch Me If You Can_. Delete the spaces and the links will work:

askenjonine. tumblr post /49719101114

askenjonine. tumblr post /49773432927

askenjonine. tumblr post/ 49754190039/warning-this-post-contains-mentions-of -abuse

Keep an open mind about this, okay? Pretty please?

* * *

Enjolras was anything but stupid, but one must consider that he did not have a long history with girls. Therefore, when he told his very first girlfriend that they needed to talk, and could she meet him later that afternoon, he did not plan on her reaction.

The moment he asked the question, Danielle Therriault froze in the middle of the school hallway. She turned to face him, light eyes boring a hole in his skull, and sharply asked:

"We're breaking up?"

"Danielle— can we not talk about it here, please?"

He tried to draw her to the side of the hallway, but she shook off his hand. "So that's a yes?" she snapped.

"I..." Why did _he_ have to be the one to do this? "I've just been noticing that— this isn't working anymore. _We're_ not working anymore. I'm going to study in Paris in the fall, and you're going to be staying here in Toulouse, and..." He faltered. "Do you see where I'm coming from?"

To his horror, Danielle looked near tears. "No! No, I _don't_ see! We can still keep up a long-distance relationship after graduation!"

"Have any of those relationships worked in the past with anyone else?"

Danielle looked away.

"Danielle, I'm truly sorry, I didn't want it to end like this. But you must have noticed over the past few months how it's... not what it used to be."

"So you want sex, is that it?"

Enjolras nearly choked.

"No! No, that's not it at all, Danielle—"

"Then _what_, Enjolras?"

He sighed. "Haven't you noticed how all we do is argue these days? How we can't agree on anything? You don't care about politics, I don't care about—" _Have_ some _tact at least_. Danielle closed her eyes in defeat, and for a moment, it looked as though she was about to agree.

Then her eyes snapped open, and she gave him a hurt, betrayed, furious look. "Are you seeing someone else? Is that it? You're breaking up with me so you can run to her— or him? Are you gay or bi and you haven't told me?"

"Danielle—"

"Is that why you're going to Paris? So you can run from me straight in her— or his— arms, and not has the memory of me hanging over you?"

"_Danielle_—"

"So you've been regretting all the things we've done together, haven't you? The movies and the gifts and the Première formal and—"

"Danielle, it's not any of those things, all right?"

"Then tell me what it is!"

"I— I just think that we should end this, here, before it drags on any further. See other people before we graduate. Doesn't it make sen—?"

Danielle slapped him, _hard_, leaving a hand-shaped welt. He didn't retaliate— he had been too well ingrained to not hit a woman, and besides, who knew how her already low opinion of him might drop even further?— but it was humiliating since everyone in the hallway was watching them; they, the future M. and Mme. Enjolras, the Golden Couple now turned sour.

"You _are_ seeing someone else!" Danielle spat. Her tears were flowing thickly and nearing sobs. "You bastard, why did I ever trust you?"

"Danielle, I'm not seeing—!" But she marched away from him down the hallway, ignoring him, her sobs audible. "Danielle, wait!" But she turned a corner and disappeared. Enjolras swore under his breath before he realized the hallway was quiet, and almost everyone was watching him.

His deus ex machina came in the form of two things: the bell, which sent the students hurrying to their classes, and a confused Combeferre, who came from the corner Danielle had taken.

"Why is Danielle crying?" Combeferre asked when he reached Enjolras. One look at the welt, however, and Combeferre groaned. "Did you seriously break up with her right _now_?"

"Unfortunately yes."

"Enjolras..." Combeferre sighed and looked at his watch. "What class do you have right now?"

"Calculus."

"You can miss it."

"What? Why—"

"You need to have a lesson on how to talk to women, and that's a bit more important than calculus. Come on."

They ended up in the bleachers by the nearly deserted track field a few minutes later, the only other person being the dedicated star of the track team that Enjolras hardly knew. Once they were seated, Combeferre asked, "So what exactly did you tell her?"

"I told her that it wasn't working anymore, and that we're going to go our separate ways after graduation anyway."

"And how did she respond to that?"

"She got really mad and insisted that a long-distance relationship could work."

"Anything else?"

"Uh..." Enjolras rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "She thought one of the reasons I was ending it was because we didn't, uh, you know."

"Have sex?" Combeferre filled in.

"Right."

"Was she right?"

"Of course not. You've know me for, what, six years? Don't you know me better than that?"

"All right, all right. Just checking. Anything else?"

"She thought that I was gay or bi."

"Was she right about that?"

"Don't be stupid."

"She certainly accused you of a lot. What else?"

"I told her— well, there was a lot, but I basically told her that we shouldn't feel obligated to see each other and we should have the freedom to see other people; not that I'm going to, but I guess it's the thought that counts, right? Then she slapped me, which personally I think was a little uncalled for, and— _what_, Combeferre?"

"You _told_ her that you two should see other people?"

"Yeah. What's wrong with that? It's the truth."

Combeferre ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "This is why we need to talk about your interactions with women, Enjolras."

"I don't get it. Why is it a bad thing?

"Because it makes you sound like you either _are_ seeing someone else or _want_ to see someone else. You made it sound like you were using her the entire time."

"But I _wasn't_."

"Doesn't make any difference. You made it sound like that."

"Oh." Enjolras sat back. "I never thought of it that way."

"There's always a first time." Combeferre put a hand on Enjolras' shoulder. "Well, at least it wasn't a really serious relationship. Or was it?"

Enjolras shook his head. "No. At least not in my part. Sure, I liked her, and the beginning was good, but by the end, she..."

"She revealed her true self?"

Enjolras nodded.

"Why did you go out with her for so long, if you weren't really into it?"

"At first we did like each other. By the end, she was the type of girl my parents wanted me to date."

"Which is the opposite of what you want in a girl."

"Right." He shrugged. "I guess it was the expectations, and because I knew something like this was going to happen if I broke up with her sooner. To be honest, I'm surprised she and I lasted this long."

The two friends, silent, watched the track star run laps for a few minutes. Finally, Combeferre spoke.

"Here's what I have to say. Granted, I don't know much about relationships myself, but whatever.

"It was probably a good idea to end things with Danielle now and not drag it into the summer. You're already eighteen, you're an adult, and you shouldn't stay with her if you don't want to just because of what your parents say.

"With you no longer dating Danielle... you aren't really tied to anything here in Toulouse except your parents. So—"

"And you, right?"

"Why me?"

"Aren't you staying here?"

"No, I'm studying in Paris too."

Enjolras grinned, the first time that day. "That's great!"

"...do you want me to continue with the original topic?"

"Right. Sure."

Combeferre smiled. "I know girls aren't your favorite subject, but bear with me. Where was I... Oh. So you move to Paris with a clean slate. Maybe you'll find someone in Paris who's more suited to you than Danielle. Someone who can argue politics and social issues with the best of them, and someone who's not a porcelain doll like Danielle."

Enjolras sighed. "That certainly would be nice. Do you have any more advice to give?"

"Nope. Not planning to go into counseling, so I can't think of anything else. I'm going to head back; I have a physics test." Combeferre stood to leave.

"I'll come with you. And Combeferre?"

Combeferre turned. "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Combeferre smiled. "That's what friends are for. And by the way, try tact around Danielle for the rest of the year."

"I'll do my best. I don't exactly want my head bitten off before graduation."

As they walked back to the main building, Enjolras felt slightly better about the situation. Slightly.

* * *

The rest of the year was unavoidably awkward. Whenever Enjolras and Danielle ran into each other the first week Danielle would burst into tears and Enjolras would feel guilty. People made comments: either not realizing what had happened, or to defend Danielle, which Enjolras found absurd. By the end of the month, however, they were both focused on graduation and university planning, and hardly thought of each other.

When they each received their diplomas, Enjolras saw Danielle looking for him in the auditorium. He was ashamed to admit that he did not met her eye.

During the after-graduation party, Danielle made one last attempt.

Enjolras had been forced to attend the party by his parents, but he made it bearable by sitting with Combeferre while the rest of his class danced. He had almost forgotten about Danielle when said ex-girlfriend appeared in front of him.

"Enjolras? Could we talk?"

"I guess so."

She gave him a pointed look. "Privately?"

Enjolras looked helplessly at Combeferre, but his friend did not offer a way out, so he reluctantly stood. "All right."

"Wonderful." Danielle seized his wrist and pulled him through the crowd until they reached an empty corner of the room.

"What is it, Danielle?"

She bit her lip. "I was hoping we could... keep in contact over the summer. And maybe when you go to Paris."

"You want to start dating again."

"Well..."

"Yes or no, Danielle?"

She looked taken aback at the tone in his voice. "Um, well... yes." She clutched the sleeve of his suit jacket. "But think about all the good times we had together! We could make them even better this time!"

"Danielle, I don't—"

She launched herself forward, grasping at the front of his suit, and kissed him. She tasted of champagne and mint, and suddenly even that repulsed him.

She looked shocked when he broke the— brief— kiss and forced her back.

"_No_, Danielle."

It was strange: for a few moments, she looked frightened and unsure.

"We are not going to start dating again just because you want something familiar before we start university. You're not even interested in me as a person anymore, just in what I represent. Right? Do you want to date just so you can coerce me into getting married so you can have my family's money and status? Were you going to convince me to sleep with you so if— of course, when— you got pregnant I would stay with you to support the kid? I don't want that life, and I don't think you want it, either. What _do_ you want, Danielle?"

She was crying again, and for the second time it was his fault.

"I just really liked you," she said thickly.

He felt guilty, but did not give in. "I'm sorry, Danielle, honestly. I wish we could part on better terms. But you're going to realize, someday at least, that we're not right for each other and we never will be." He sighed, dug through his pocket, and offered Danielle the tissue that his mother had made him take; perhaps she had guessed something like this would happen. Danielle accepted the tissue with a watery smile.

"Just—" Danielle sniffed. "Whoever you marry is going to be the luckiest girl in the world, and— and— I wanted to be _her_." That sent Danielle into another wave of tears, and Enjolras, not knowing what to do, stood and watched her until she had somewhat composed herself again.

"Danielle, you won't be happy being married to me, anyway," Enjolras said. "I'm going to try to change things. Maybe not right away, but eventually. And I'm pretty sure I'm going to be arrested many, many times, and I'm going stirring up a lot of trouble. And I don't think you would be happy with that kind of life. Right?"

Danielle sniffed again. "I guess," she admitted.

He didn't really know what else to say. "So may we part as semi-friends?"

She smiled. "Semi-friends. All right."

He offered her his hand, which seemed to surprise her, but she took it anyway. Her hand felt as though it was composed of bird bones.

"Well," Danielle said. Her light tone was obviously forced, but he made no comment. "Have a good time in Paris. Maybe I'll drop by some time. —As a friend," she clarified.

Her expression changed then, and she looked at him longingly, wistfully. "It was a good year," she said softly. "Goodbye, Enjolras."

"Goodbye, Danielle."

She smiled, shakily, and left. He went back to Combeferre and his parents feeling worlds better.

"I'm going to head out," he said to his parents. "See you tomorrow, Combeferre."

"But Antoine, darling!" his mother said, standing. "What about Danielle? Surely—"

"Mom, enough. Danielle and I aren't together anymore. I thought you would know that, since you've been prying into my business."

"Antoine!" his father snapped. "Apologize to your mother this instant."

"I'm sorry, it's the truth." He turned to Combeferre. "Could I stay at your place tonight?"

"Sure," said Combeferre, although he did glance at Enjolras' parents before responding. Enjolras turned and walked out the auditorium, ignoring the calls of his parents.

He felt at peace about the whole situation with Danielle, finally.

* * *

Later that night, when Enjolras was untying the sleeping bag and spreading it on the couch in Combeferre's apartment, his friend appeared at the doorway of the bedroom that led into the living room.

"Enjolras?"

Enjolras turned. "Yeah?"

Combeferre smiled and said, "I guess this means you're free to look for your perfect girl."

Enjolras smiled. "_Goodnight_, Combeferre."

"Goodnight, Enjolras."

Enjolras lay on the couch, wondering despite himself.

* * *

Combeferre's prediction did not come true right away. In fact, it took almost four years. He and Combeferre both had completely forgotten about Danielle and the prediction by the time it was all but handed to them.

Marius, Enjolras and Combeferre's easily-distracted friend of two years, came one day to the café with a young woman named Éponine. After the meeting was done and Enjolras and Éponine, after arguing the entire time, had parted ways, Enjolras almost missed Combeferre's small smile.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Combeferre, whenever you look like that, you've always noticed something that I haven't. What is it?"

Combeferre's smile grew slightly broader. "Do you remember, in the last year of lycée, that prediction kind of thing that I made after you and Danielle broke up?"

"What?"

"The 'perfect girl'? You don't remember that?"

"The perfect... Combeferre, you think— _Éponine_...?"

"I'm just saying. You two did argue over the new tax for the entire meeting and we basically got nothing done."

"_Éponine?_ Really, Combeferre. She's not 'the perfect...' No."

"Denial is the first sign of love. Goodnight, Enjolras."

"Denial— Combeferre! I'm not— it's not Éponine!"

But he was talking to thin air. He left the café, muttering under his breath, and was walking down the street when he saw the figure he had argued with the entire evening going up to the café.

"Éponine?"

She turned, and once she recognized him she smiled. "Hey, Enjolras. Do you know if the café's still open? I left something in the back room."

"It might not be open, but I could check."

"Thank you." She smiled again, and Combeferre's words echoed in the back of his mind. No. "The perfect girl" could not be this girl— young woman, who, now that he looked at it, was the exact opposite of what Danielle was.

There was still a light on in the café, and when Enjolras knocked the proprietress Mme. Hucheloup came hurrying to the door. She listened to the explanation and let Éponine in without any hesitation.

Enjolras stood with Mme. Hucheloup, waiting for Éponine— and didn't the name Éponine have some obscure historical meaning? What was it...

Too late, he realized Mme. Hucheloup was speaking.

"Would you repeat the question, please?"

Mme. Hucheloup smiled, her eyes crinkling. "I asked if you two were together."

"Together? As in— Oh, no, no we're not. We met today, actually, so we're— no."

"Really." Mme. Hucheloup looked thoughtful. "I thought— well, never mind. Did you find what you were looking for, dear?" She was addressing Éponine now, who was carrying a book in her hand.

Éponine nodded. "Yes. Thank you, madame."

"Not at all. And M. Enjolras, why don't you lend Mademoiselle..."

"Éponine," Éponine filled in.

"Why don't you lend Mlle. Éponine your coat? It's freezing outside, I don't know what you're doing without a coat in this weather, mademoiselle."

Enjolras looked at Mme. Hucheloup— beginning to see what she was doing but confused as to what her motives were— but took off his coat and helped Éponine into it. "Thank you, madame," Éponine said again to Mme. Hucheloup.

Mme. Hucheloup smiled once more and opened the door. "Come back anytime." Enjolras looked back as he left the café threshold, confused. As she shut the door, Mme. Hucheloup _winked_ at him, then turned to go back into the café.

Enjolras was highly perplexed, but he tried to brush off and said, "Let me walk you home. It isn't exactly safe to be out this late."

"Really, I'm fine—"

"As a gentleman I insist."

Éponine looked surprised, but gave in. "All right. It's this way."

"What book are you reading, by the way?"

"_Animal Farm_, by George Orwell. It's really interesting, actually..."

As Éponine talked, Enjolras wondered, in the back of his mind.

The perfect girl.


End file.
